Fifty seven and a half hours. That's how long my own little labor of love lasted before my son came into this world almost 24 years ago. It really didn't matter if I wanted to quicken the journey. He was arriving in his own sweet time and I could either live in the moment or fight it every step of the way. As much as I might have wanted to be in control, I wasn't and I simply needed to trust that what I began nine months earlier would turn out right in the end.
Writing is sometimes like that. I begin with an idea and I spend countless hours nurturing it. Feeding it with my imagination until I begin to see it's growth. Sometimes days, sometimes months later my labor of love bears fruit and I have a completed story.
I'm currently working on a labor of love which might take me into the holidays and beyond. Lunadar: Homeward Bound started out as a spark when I came across a mesmerizing picture on the internet. I jotted down a few sentences to describe what I was seeing. Then it turned into a daydream which turned into a few paragraphs and now it has blossomed into a young adult novel I am trying to finish.
But there are times when the labor pains are strong and I have to take a moment to breathe. I have to exercise patience. The potential birth of this novel drives me forward and I seek to control my world. Sometimes I just have to remember that I'm not the one in charge...my characters are coming to life on their own and they are the ones who whisper in my ear. All I just need to do is write their story down.
Scheduling time on the computer however is sometimes a problem...